


home is a little house on juniper street

by Rain_In_Your_Heart



Category: RWBY
Genre: Anti-Faunus Racism (RWBY), Background Arkos, Blake being a sarcasm major, F/F, PTSD symptoms, University AU... or is it?, Weiss being a very prickly teddy bear, Yang being best team mom, background renora, mentions of past abuse including rape/non-con, ruby being cute, you know the drill
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:48:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22456729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rain_In_Your_Heart/pseuds/Rain_In_Your_Heart
Summary: Blake is a refugee, hiding from her former life. Weiss is fleeing the implosion of her family. Yang is trying to keep her family safe. And Ruby just wants to save the world. Beacon University brings them all together. But it's going to take more than that to keep them there.
Relationships: Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long, Ruby Rose/Weiss Schnee
Comments: 21
Kudos: 186





	1. Prologue: the house on juniper street

**Author's Note:**

> Yay, first post on ao3! Let's go.

Blake isn’t really sure what she’s expecting when she knocks on the door of 447 Juniper Street, but an instantly recognizable head of snow-white hair and piercing blue eyes is not it.

The house is a homey-looking affair, appearing affable in the middle of a street that feels a little rough around the edges. Gnarled trees line the well-worn road with no sidewalks in sight. There’s probably not a house on the road that’s younger than half a century; roofs are missing shingles in a manner visible from the road, paint’s well peeled from walls, and there’s a bizarre mix of styles that somehow just ends up feeling personable to Blake. 447 has a beautiful garden out front filled with flowers and other green plants reflecting the mid-afternoon sunlight. Well, Blake’s lived in places a lot less upscale than this.

“You must be Blake,” the Schnee says at the door with only a brief glance at Blake’s faunus ears. “I’m Weiss.”

Weiss holds out her hand, and Blake shakes it. She’s too confused to do anything else. To her credit, Weiss doesn’t immediately go scrub her hand in the sink or anything. She just grabs one of Blake’s suitcases and carries it inside. Blake follows her with the other one while Weiss chatters freely.

“Yang and Ruby aren’t here. Yang sends her regrets, something deathly important came up, yada yada. They’re supposed to be back by ten PM tonight, not like that means anything, but whatever, I suppose. Your room’s there, that’s mine, that’s Yang’s, don’t open that door if you value your sanity, that’s Ruby’s, there’s a bathroom there, the kitchen’s over there -”

The house is cute, at any rate. It’s a little bungalow with a cozy living room that has a giant TV on the wall opposite the big, poofy, L-shaped sofa. There’s some bean bag chairs and a little table sitting near a freestanding light – Blake already sees where she could spend a lot of time reading. Of course, dependant on her other housemates being tolerable. A faint scent of roses seems to permeate everything, from the little hallway with the bedrooms to the old wooden kitchen table that looks like it weighs a thousand pounds.

She really doesn’t know what to make of Weiss so far. Given that she is obviously and flagrantly a faunus, she’d expected the SDC heiress to be a little more like the Atlesians she was used to. At least Weiss didn’t recognize her. There wasn’t really a reason for her to – Blake had been wearing a mask like the rest of her squad – but still. Blake’s not really the type to let bygones be bygones, but this once probably can’t hurt.

“You brought any food or anything?”

“No,” Blake said. “I need to go shopping later.”

“Well, you’re probably jet-lagged from your trip,” Weiss shrugs. “There’s some leftovers of a stir-fry Yang made for lunch in the fridge, you can have as much of that as you want for dinner today. Dishes are in that cabinet. Someone can show you around to the nearest stores and whatever tomorrow, and we can talk about house rules and whatever when we’re all here...” She glares at her phone like somehow her ire will be transmitted through the CCT local network to her housemates.

Blake really is exhausted. It’s not jet lag – she hadn’t come from Menagerie – but Weiss doesn’t have to know that, and a ten-hour flight is a ten-hour flight. “Sure, I’m gonna sleep for a bit.” She pulls her suitcases towards the room Weiss designated as hers.

“Let me know if I’m making too much noise,” Weiss says placidly from the couch, pulling a laptop out of somewhere.

Bizarre, to put it mildly.

But later, she takes her chances with the stir-fry. It’s good. Not as spicy as they’d do it in Menagerie, but genuinely tasty. If it’s poisoned, then it’s the first poison she’s come across that she can’t smell. Weiss is asleep sitting upright on the sofa. Her laptop, the only source of light in the room, is screensaving on her lap. It’s almost cute. Probably would have made it all the way there if Blake’s mom hadn’t become an only child due to Weiss’ family’s work camps.

This seems to be concrete proof that she truly has quit the White Fang. She knew a lot of people that would have taken this opportunity to slit Weiss’ throat in a heartbeat. She, though, doesn’t even entertain the thought. Maybe she never had it in her anyway. Adam always said she was a coward – she never really hurt anyone herself when she was with the Fang either. Of course, helping someone do something awful that they couldn’t do without you is tantamount to doing it yourself. But she wouldn’t help anyone hurt Weiss even if the girl hadn’t been positively _friendly_ to her so far. There was a reason a Schnee was living in a Ł400 per month room in a house with three other people, in an old district in Vale, and Blake’s going to find out what it is. It’s actually possible that Weiss is genuinely not discriminatory like the rest of her family. She wouldn’t have considered that possible before having met the girl.

There’s a noise of a car pulling up outside, and two sets of lethargic footsteps approaching the house. The door opens, and a girl with dark brown hair that’s faded to brilliant red at the tips, matted down to her head with sweat, falls through the doorway and lands on the floor with a thump. She moans incoherently. Another girl strips off heavy boots, pulls off floor girl’s boots, lifts her off the ground without apparent effort, and walks into the kitchen.

This is Yang, the owner of the house. Blake recognizes her from the pictures in the ad. She’s young, probably no older than Blake is herself. Tall, though, maybe a hair under six feet, with a mass of dishevelled, dirty, blonde hair that hangs down past her waist. It’s got twigs in it and there’s a spot of some strange black ooze Blake can’t identify. Her crop-top is splattered with mud, and there’s dirt covering her skin, the streaks across her face sharply contrasting her brilliant purple eyes. She looks tired, tired to the bone. It’s in her eyes, in her stance, in how she walks. But still, when she smiles, despite how small and weary it is, it crinkles the corners of her eyes.

“Hey, Blake. Nice to meet you. I’m Yang. I’d shake your hand, but mine are full.” She helplessly gestures in the air with floor girl’s entire body – who’s passed out in her arms. “And this is Ruby, my little sister. I’m sorry I couldn’t be here when you arrived. Hopefully Weiss wasn’t too mean.”

Across the room, Weiss wakes up at her name with a snort. She barely catches the laptop as it falls out of her lap, looks at Yang, and then at the clock. “Only an hour late. Is that a new record?”

“Probably, _mom_ ,” Yang says with a small eyeroll, but she’s still smiling. “Oh, how’s the stirfry?”

“It’s good,” Blake says. “Weiss told me I could eat it. And she wasn’t mean at all. She showed me my room and stuff.”

“Well,” Yang says. “Eat not food from someone who has cooked ten thousand dishes once, but from someone who has cooked one dish ten thousand times. Or something. I would love to chat but I am _dying_ , and I’ve got to get Sleeping Beauty here cleaned up and to bed. Then I have to take Weiss to the hospital probably, since she apparently managed to go all afternoon without being mean to somebody.”

“Fuck off,” Weiss says, and yawns. “I’m going to bed. That dirt had better not be all over the floor when I wake up or so help me.” She drops her laptop on the table and walks away without looking back.

“Love you!” Yang calls after her.

Weiss doesn’t grace that with a verbal response, but she gives Yang a sort of accepting eyeroll that speaks of a thousand similar exchanges before disappearing inside her room.

Yang shrugs at Blake. “We’ll go over everything tomorrow when I’m actually awake, alright?”

“Sure.”

Yang smiles at her again before walking to the bathroom with a now quietly snoring Ruby in her arms, and it already seems like a thing, that Yang is perpetually smiling about something. She’s just _bright_. Like the sun itself reached from the other side of the world just to grace a little spot in their old kitchen.

The carpet in the living room is worn but soft under her feet. The painting of a rose on one wall is beautiful in the silver moonlight. The sliding door to her closet has a little squeak in one spot. Her mattress is firm but smooth. There’s sounds of running water and an incoherent, petulant whine from the bathroom. And Blake thinks to herself, I really could get used to this.


	2. your dripping heart of ice

Weiss gets on Yang’s nerves, Ruby knows that. Weiss would probably get on Ruby’s nerves too, if she had nerves. She doesn’t think she does, but you can never be sure, can you?

It’s all in the little things. Stuff like, Weiss being a super big stickler for things like cleaning your dishes up immediately after dinner! And yes, it’s your turn to vacuum this weekend, so it’s 10 AM and why haven’t you done it yet! And why is it so friggin’ cold in this house all the time! And why are you making so much noise when you get home at 11 PM, some people are trying to sleep! And so on. To be fair, the last one was probably Ruby’s fault. But Yang is a free spirit! She can’t be tethered down like the rest of us mortals. And so she doesn’t get along so well with Weiss.

Ruby knew that Yang wanted to kick Weiss out after the first time she got shouted at for something she didn’t think was a big deal, but that would be setting a bad example for Ruby. Ruby told her as much! Sometimes people need help, and when they do, you gotta help them. That’s the way the world works. Yang thought Weiss should be more grateful. Ruby counter-thought that Weiss had been through a lot in a short amount of time, and she’d gone through a lot of huge changes, and it would be great if she could just immediately fall into line with Ruby and Yang’s way of living, but that’s not what happened, and that’s also the way the world works. Anyway, it’s not like Weiss is trying to take advantage of them. Throughout the three-ish months she’s lived with them, she’s been working like thirty hours a week on top of agonizing over her 4.0 average in her poli-sci program to get into law school, just to have money to pay them for rent and her food and all that stuff Yang mostly takes care of for Ruby. Yang flatly refused to take her money even though they weren’t really making enough money themselves to cover the mortgage on the house. Weiss just about had a stroke when she found that out, and so, Ruby now takes her money and spends it on the house herself. She’s not sure if it’s the right thing to do, but it feels like it is – Weiss seems like she needs to feel like she’s helping somehow – and Dad always told Ruby that she should trust her feelings. So she does.

Weiss struggles with funny things sometimes. Like the time Yang and Ruby brought her to the Vytal festival! And Weiss didn’t really say much while they were standing in line even though Yang and Ruby did what they did best, and filled up the talking meter for the day! Ruby’s not really sure if there is such a thing as a talking meter, but if there was, they definitely had that locked down. And Ruby was running around between cotton candy stands and munching hotdogs and playing carnival games, and a couple petals spilled out once, and she got a stern talking-to later about that. She didn’t get any talking-to about the high striker though. Ruby thought Yang was just proud of her about that one. Weiss didn’t want to do anything! She just stood there and looked overwhelmed by all the carnival-y-ness and it took Ruby and Yang half a day to get her to start enjoying herself. The moment of success was when a big burly guy at the high-striker couldn’t bash the ball into the dinger thingy, but Ruby channelled her inner Nora, swung the hammer with one hand, and smacked the ball into next week. She won a gigantic stuffed elephant that still lives in Weiss’ room. She was going to keep the elephant, but Weiss had _giggled_ when Ruby hit the bell, and that was probably the first time she’d smiled all day, and Ruby got a little caught up in the moment. Yang teased her later about her abilities at saying no to pretty girls, so Ruby did the only sensible thing, and laid Yang straight out on the floor. That ended the same way it always did – Ruby pinned to a wall, being mercilessly tickled – but it was worth it for the sweet, sweet sensation of actually landing a hit on her big sister for once.

Oh, what about the time Dad came over? And Weiss got all weird about things and called him “sir” a lot even though he said just to call him Tai, and she hid in her room most of the time he was there. She said she was studying, but it was like midway through September so there’s no way any of her classes actually required studying yet. And then she was like super relieved and upset at the same time when he left, and Ruby really doesn’t know a lot about awkward but that was definitely awkward. Ruby was offended! Dad’s the best dad in existence and was nothing but kind to Weiss, and she had no right to act like that. But Yang told Ruby not to be offended and it wasn’t Weiss fault, and she said it in that way she does when there’s something Ruby doesn’t really understand about a situation. So Ruby accepted that because, when she doesn’t know an answer, Yang is more or less always right at the end of the day. Yang had then tried to make some halfhearted joke about Ruby and forgiveness and pretty girls, but it really didn’t even leave the starting gates, and her heart was definitely not in it. Then Ruby heard Weiss crying that night and it made her upset too but she didn’t know what to do about it so she didn’t do anything, and that definitely did not feel right. Especially when Weiss pretended nothing happened the next day but her eyes were still red. Yang bought a tin of rum-and-raisin ice cream for the house, even though nobody in history other than Weiss has ever liked that flavor. That, at least, felt right.

Once, Nora messed up a combo. This actually has happened more than once, but it’s only once gotten Yang’s side slashed by a nevermore’s talon. When they walked in the door that night, Yang’s shirt torn open on one side exposing all the bandaging Mr. Oobleck put on her, Weiss majorly freaked out. What happened, who did this to you, did you call the police, I know the best lawyers in Vale, et cetera et cetera. That had been slightly tricky to fend off. You can’t call the police on a nevermore! Especially not a dead one. But they persevered. Because that’s what Yang and Ruby have always done. Together. They were not together when Ruby read Nora the riot act, however. 

So the point is that Ruby is not 100% certain about how much she likes Weiss, but when Weiss finds her in the workshop and tells her she wants to learn how to fight, Ruby more or less drops everything. It’s not like what Ruby was doing was terribly important anyway. Mostly just messing around with a couple little wolfram alloy blades! She’s trying to build a little mechanical extender so she can fit the blades in some wrist gauntlets like Yang has, and extend or retract them. Still, she gets the feeling that even if she was doing some emergency maintenance on Crescent Rose or Miló, she’d still drop it to go help Weiss. Weiss is just so closed off all the time! She never talks about thing she likes, and she never asks for things either. She likes complaining about things. And demanding that Yang and Ruby act like “civilized human beings”, whatever that means. But actually asking for help or advice? Never. This time, she does, though. That puts it right atop Ruby’s priority list.

“Why do you want to learn?”

“Well, if I’m going to be living in this neighborhood any longer, I’d better know how to defend myself at least a little bit,” Weiss fires back.

That is actually not the reason, but Ruby’s not sure what the real reason could be. So she just files it away for future analysis.

“Why do you think I can teach you?”

“Can’t you?”

“I can,” Ruby shrugs. “But why me?”

“Look,” Weiss says. “If you don’t want to do it, fine.” She half-turns to the door before Ruby stops her with a hand on her shoulder.

“I never said I didn’t want to,” Ruby says patiently. “There’s just a few things I need to know.”

Weiss sighs. “You seem... competent, and I don’t think Yang would be patient enough. I don’t really know anyone else who could help me.”

“Okay,” Ruby says. “I’m not going to train you with a sword though. You can’t carry one around anyway.”

Weiss looks around the workshop, from the stand of swords on the wall, to the rack holding Crescent Rose and Ember Celica, to Ruby’s workbench littered with metal blades, to...

“I have a license for those,” Ruby whines.

Weiss gives a rare smile. “I’m sure you do. I’m just giving you a hard time. That’s not what I was looking for, anyway.”

“Alright,” Ruby says. She dusts off her hands and leads Weiss over to the bag hanging from the ceiling. “Show me your form! Give it a good punch.”

Weiss tentatively hits the bag with her knuckles.

“More!” Ruby says. “It can take it.”

Weiss winds up a little more and gives it a bit more of a go.

“Alright!” Ruby cheers. She walks up behind Weiss and adjusts her stance a bit. “You need to be standing like _this_ , with your leg _here_ if you want to really be able to hit something. And let you shoulders move with you, see?” She stands next to the bag and demonstrates herself, a slow-motion punch that bonks the bag backwards a bit. “See how my whole upper body goes in one movement? Try it again.”

Weiss’ face is a little red. It’s not that hot in the workshop! Well, maybe a little bit.

Yang is super weird about it on the airship that evening. She does her usual teasing thing when Ruby tells her about her and Weiss’ plans to get Weiss in shape and teach her how to throw a punch. This is perfectly normal. But when Ruby tells her about the weird lump in Weiss’ right upper arm, and how Weiss hadn’t really answered any of her questions about it, Yang visibly winces.

“What is that for?” Ruby says despairingly. “What did I do wrong this time? Is that why she was all moody again? Grr, I always mess these things up!”

Yang laughs, but it’s tense. “Chill, Rubes. You didn’t mess anything up.”

“Then what is it? Did you know about that?”

“Yeah,” Yang says, and she just looks sad now. This has gotten Pyrrha’s attention. “Remember when I told you that people in Weiss’ past have hurt her?”

“Yeah, and that’s why she doesn’t trust us too much?” Ruby says.

“Her arm’s broken,” Yang says. “Well, it was, once upon a time, and it was never set, and never healed properly.”

“Oh wow,” Ruby says, with very wide eyes. “And I was getting her to hit a punching bag!”

“Yeah, don’t do that,” Pyrrha says with some alarm.

“It’s not a huge deal,” Yang says. “It’s stable now. It’s just fused wrong.”

“How is that even a thing that happened?” Ruby asks, mind boggled.

“Jacques Schnee is a rat bastard,” Yang says by way of explanation, and drinks some water. “Also, none of you heard any of that from me. Aside from the bit about Jacques being a bastard. That’s public information.”

“Is that why she lives with us?”

Yang pauses for a second, then: “Yes. Dad knows her sister. They got it set up.”

“I think it’s very sweet that you were able to help her,” Pyrrha says.

“Well we can’t do much right now,” Yang says ruefully. “It’s going to be a while before she lets me even try to convince her to go to the hospital and get it fixed properly.”

“I think you’re doing more for her than you think,” Pyrrha says. “Is she going to be at the party tomorrow?”

“Yes,” Ruby declares.

“Really?” Yang looks at her, surprised. “Did she say that?”

“Well, no, not as such,” Ruby admits. “But she will be there nonetheless! I’ll tell her that it’s my birthday, and then how will she refuse!”

Yang gives her that look she has when she thinks Ruby is being hopelessly optimistic. But the airship’s starting to descend, which means it’s time to wake Nora up and get ready to jump, and also, she was wrong! Because the very next day, Weiss is in Jaune’s car with them as they’re driving to Chateau Sun for the annual Rubymas/Halloween party. Weiss did, in fact, refuse to go to the party. But then, Ruby told her it was her birthday, and gave her her best pleading face, and then Weiss did a lot of eyerolling and suffering about what she was going to wear. Operation successful! She ended up in a cute white peacoat, so that’s like _double_ victory for Ruby. Twice as good as usual!

The house is called “Chateau Sun” on account of Sun having told Ruby that. She gets long-suffering looks from everyone else whenever she refers to it by that name, but she does it anyway because it’s funny. They always hang out there, partly because it has the best party space in the living room, and partly because Sun likes hosting stuff. Also, it’s just Sun, Neptune, Ren, and Nora living there, and they don’t have any people who would complain about Sun’s music leaking through the walls. Except for Nora. Nora does a lot of complaining about Sun’s music until she gets three beers in, and then she doesn’t care so much about it anymore.

Weiss is super withdrawn at first. It reminds Ruby a lot of the time at the Vytal festival a month ago. Which is great, because it means Ruby knows exactly how to fix it! Step one is to feed her. Weiss says she doesn’t like beer, so Ruby freestyles a concoction in the kitchen with lots of strawberry liqueur in it because Weiss likes sweet things more than she will admit to. She grabs a couple random bags of snacks and delivers the lot to Weiss, who looks very surprised and confused at having her arms suddenly filled with stuff, but Pyrrha’s there so Ruby figures she’ll be okay. Step two is to do something ridiculous and/or insane, so Ruby picks the “and” option and indulges a drunk Nora's challenge to an arm wrestle. She makes a lot of faces, and Nora just about splits the table in half when she smashes Ruby’s hand into it, but shortly thereafter, Weiss is chatting to Neptune while he demolishes Ruby, Yang, and Nora at Mario Kart, so mission once again accomplished! Sometimes, Ruby’s genius is... it’s almost frightening.

The thing is, Ruby had a family back home. Yang and her and dad, living on Patch. And sometimes uncle Qrow as well. And dad’s the best dad ever! And she knows she’s lucky because even though she’s never really had a mom, she’s still always had more of a family than a lot of her friends. Yang’s girlfriend, Neon, couldn’t make it this evening, and Ruby’s secretly happy. Because even though she’s happy when Yang is, and Neon makes Yang happy, Ruby doesn’t like Neon much, and Yang’s happy here, lying with her head in Pyrrha’s lap while getting obliterated at Mario Kart by Neptune. And Nora is swearing about red shells and drinking Monster in an attempt to ward off her incoming hangover, and Weiss is laughing at something Neptune said, and Pyrrha is watching the game with her fingers tangled in Jaune’s hair, and Jaune’s face is going through seven shades of red and he’s fallen off Rainbow Road three times in the last minute, and Ren and Sun are passing a blunt back and forth on the porch while watching the sunset, and Ruby feels like this, here, is as much a family as anyone’s ever had. And more than anything, she hopes that, someday, Weiss will feel that way too, because it’s clear that Weiss is going to be staying with them for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "And" - Ruby Rose
> 
> To clear up potential confusion, this chapter takes place chronologically before the first one. I'll delete this note when I get there in the story, but for now, have it.


	3. shards of myself

Yang regrets everything. It’s like 8:30am on the second day of classes, and the semester’s already a disaster. There are a lot of reasons for it, she’s sure, but the main one is the large purple travel mug that is currently sitting on her kitchen counter-top.

She can almost taste it. That beautiful brown liquid, steaming gently in the crisp fall morning air. She makes a mental resolution to temper her caffeine addiction at least a little bit, because her head hurts and she has zero ability to focus on either Anatomy 230 or its lime-haired professor – attention captivated by the mug of the precious substance he’s waving around in his hand.

Eh, there’s a coffee shop on campus. She’ll start working on said addiction tomorrow.

Seriously though, who even starts a class at 8:00 in the morning? She’s really trying to pay attention. This is a class she actually wants to know the content from... So she’s quite startled when Ruby slides over right next to her and interrupts a daydream about her new resident kitty licking up a bowl of that wonderful vanilla creamer Weiss bought her.

“Did you see the board this morning?” It’s quiet, but urgent.

Yang takes a moment to recover, spurred on by the unusually serious look Ruby is giving her.

“Is this about the deathstalkers? Fox and Velvet had to pull out, it’s just the six of us tonight.”

“No,” Ruby says. “There’s a _person_ on the board.”

“A person?”

“Yeah. It’s a name, Adam Taurus.”

“That name’s familiar somehow...”

“Yeah.” Ruby pulls out her scroll and shows Yang a webpage for some faunus guy with little horns on his head, wearing a mask that looks like a Grimm faceplate. “He’s apparently some higher up guy in the White Fang. Last sighted in Mistral.”

“So, what’s he doing on the Vale regional board?” Yang asks, confused.

“Exactly,” Ruby says. She swipes the screen and pulls up a map. “They’re not even after anything in Vale. There’s an SDC mine a hundred kilometres north of Mistral that’s been targeted over the past few days. Like usual, Schnee’s asked for help from the Mistral district, and like usual, they’ve ignored them.”

“And somehow, that translates to Oz posting a bounty for this guy.”

“Yeah,” Ruby says. “I’m going to talk to him about it later, if you wanna come.”

“Does it really bother you that much?” Yang says, already knowing the answer to her question, and half-regretting asking it as she speaks.

“ _Yes_ ,” Ruby says. “Yes it does. This is not what we should be doing.”

“Then we won’t do it.”

“Don’t be obtuse, Yang.” Ruby’s looking at her crossly now. “I’m not talking about just our team.”

“I am.” Yang glances at the board to make sure that she’s not missing anything. Conclusion: she’s missing a lot. Well, she was going to have to review this lecture online later anyway. “Part of being a hunter is that you sometimes have to make those choices yourself. It’s not our responsibility, or prerogative, to tell anyone else what to do. Neither is it Oz’s. And before you say anything-” (Ruby’s mouth had opened to protest) “-no, I’m not just throwing my hands in the air, Ruby. If the world is a better place without this guy than with him, then a huntsman who completes that bounty isn’t doing anything harmful to what we’re supposed to protect.”

“Great,” Ruby says sarcastically. “I guess we should just let this go then. Not like Oz had anything to do with it, except, you know, posting the bounty in the first place.” She angrily scribbles something in her notebook, which Yang barely recognizes as a diagram on the board.

“Ruby,” Yang says. She very deliberately does not sigh. “That just means Oz disagrees with you. You’re allowed to disagree with him. That’s what makes us different than Ironwood’s little army. But that also means that people, including Oz, are allowed to disagree with you.”

“And you, apparently,” Ruby sulks.

“I do,” Yang shrugs. “But, that’s between us as a team, and if it comes to it, we’ll talk about it as a team. That has nothing to do with Oz or anyone else.”

“He’s a _person_ , Yang. We’re here to fight monsters, not people.”

“Some people are monsters.”

“What, you think he’s got glowing red eyes under that mask? You think he bleeds tar and hunts down people’s fear?” Ruby dips her voice as someone squeezes past behind her.

“You don’t have to be a Grimm for the world to be a better place without you.”

“Doesn’t mean he deserves to be killed on someone else’s say-so!”

“Doesn’t mean he doesn’t.”

“Ugh!” Ruby slumps forward on the table.

It is way too early for Ruby to be mad at her. Yang’s not actually sure when’s _not_ too early for Ruby to be mad at her, but it’s definitely not now, and her head still hurts.

“Ruby,” she tries. “I know you think it’s wrong. And I know that there’s no convincing you otherwise. It’s one of the things I most admire about you. How committed you are to doing the right thing.”

Ruby lifts her head slightly off the desk, but it’s right as Oobleck shouts “Class dismissed!”, and she brushes past Yang on the way out. Yang’s head throbs again as she ducks out of the crush of people fleeing the lecture hall. She hates fighting with Ruby. It’s not something that she thinks should ever happen. But one of the few things they have in common is that they’re both stubborn. And maybe a little pigheaded. At least Ruby only got it from her dad.

She squeezes through the crowd waiting to rush in for the next period, and almost bowls over somebody standing near the wall, who trips, scrambling out of her way.

“Whoa, sorry,” Yang blurts, one arm already placed to catch her, but it’s unnecessary, as the girl recovers with an almost feline grace...

“In a rush?” Blake says dryly.

Well, that’s one way to fix Yang’s mood. “Hey, Blake! Whatcha doing here?”

Blake looks at Ruby, fleeing through the crowd. “I’m not sure if I want to ask about that or not.”

Yang huffs. “We had a little disagreement in class, nothing serious. It’s just Ruby’s teenage angst versus my own. The problem is that it’s Ruby, so she has a point. We’ll figure it out, though.”

Nothing like a little self-deprecating humour.

Blake turns back to Yang in one slow blink. “I brought you something.” She holds out a very familiar travel mug...

“Oh my gosh, Blake,” Yang says, taking it. “Enabling my addiction, are you?”

Blake seems to shrink into herself at that. Her face stays neutral, but her kitty ears fold back against her head. “Oh, I didn’t realize, I’m sorry...”

“No, no...” There’s nothing to do but wrap her in a hug. “It’s a joke. Thank you. A lot. I almost didn’t survive my anatomy lecture.”

Yang feels her relax a bit in her arms and steps back back a bit. Blake smiles. It’s cute. Her ears are now upright on her head, pointing slightly forward at Yang. They’re so fluffy! Yang smiles too.

“I have to be at the Amber building in -” Yang checks her scroll - “two minutes. I don’t suppose you’re going that way too?”

“No, unfortunately,” Blake says demurely. “I’m right down the hall here.”

“Darn!” Yang says. “Well, text me when you have lunch. We’ll be in the cafeteria near the pizza place.”

“Sure,” Blake says, and smiles again. “You’re going to be late.”

“I was born late!” Yang crows.

“What does that even mean?”

“No idea,” Yang shrugs as she hurries away. “See you, Blake-y!”

“Don’t call me that!”

Yang takes a sip of her coffee. There’s no possible way for the caffeine to have hit her brain’s thirsty adenosine receptors already, but her head doesn’t hurt anymore.

Blake does text Yang at lunch, but it’s only to tell her that she needs to spend it in the library today, studying. It’s a lie, and Blake can’t put a finger on why she does it. Maybe it’s because she’s afraid of Yang’s friends’ reactions to her being a faunus. Maybe it’s because of how she’s used to lies being safer than the truth. Maybe it’s because Yang scares her. She still feels where Yang’s warm arms circled around her, like they’d burned themselves into her skin. She’d _tensed_ when Yang touched her, part of her brain flinching away from the contact. She isn’t sure if it’s a memory of Adam’s voice, his anger at someone else touching her... or whether it’s a fragment of Adam himself, the feeling of his hands on her body. The taste of bile fills her mouth at the unbidden thought, but the memory of Yang is there to oust it.

She was so warm, even through the thin leather of the glove she always wore on her right hand. She’d shaken Blake’s on the second day at the house. Something about meeting her properly, without having a sleeping gremlin to take care of. Blake was actually in danger of smiling at a memory. But then again, she’d done a lot of smiling this morning, hadn’t she? She’d flinched away when Yang had made a comment about enabling, but she’s not Adam. There’s nothing to be afraid of. And so, when Yang had hugged her, despite herself, she’d melted into it, and smiled at the girl afterwards. It had been so long since she’d been touched where there was no fearful anticipation.

And that’s really the crux of it. Yang feels warm and strong and safe. It’s an aura around her – like the sun draws a ray just to follow the girl around. Every fiber of Blake’s being wants to trust her. But she’s known Yang for all of five days, and Adam, too, had made Blake want to trust him. Had made Blake want to love him. And so, Yang scares Blake, because she knows her feelings can’t be trusted.

But Adam never made amazing pancakes in the mornings on the weekend for everyone in the house, just because he was awake. Yang’s little sister adores her. She’s somehow managed to melt Weiss Schnee’s heart. She’s thoughtful, and kind, and gentle. Even in the beginning, Adam was never gentle, and his aura of _danger_ drew Blake to him, before she learned what it really was. And so, Yang scares her, but with Yang, she also has hope. It’s not something she’s dared to have for a long time. But with Yang, she has it. And she decides that tomorrow, if their schedules line up, she’s going to join Yang and her friends for lunch, if they’ll have her.

But her resolve is weakened by the rest of the day, when she’s reminded of the world outside of Yang’s eyes. Vale is a much nicer place for a faunus than Mistral, but that’s not exactly a high bar to clear. She _feels_ the eyes on her, following her through the halls, resting on her in classes – she suddenly longs for her bow, the little black ribbon she left floating in the ocean. She hears the whispers following her – another curse of the extra appendages atop her head.

Nobody _does_ anything. Not at first, at least. That’s the thing people don’t understand. It’s not necessarily calling names. It’s not pulling on her ears. It’s just constant. It’s pervasive. It’s wearing. It’s a reminder, wherever she goes among humans, that she’s not one of them. Beacon’s supposed to be faunus friendly, but she’s only seen two others since she arrived in Vale, and it makes her feel sick to the bottom of her soul when she thinks about Yang or her friends looking at her like that.

Of course, eventually, they do do something. They didn’t yesterday, on the first day of classes. But that’s how it always goes. It’s looks here. A comment behind her back there. Then, comments to her face. Across halls, as they get bolder, steadily pushing the boundaries. So when she gets cornered by the boy with auburn hair a few steps off campus, she’s not surprised, per se. Not that that stops the instant revulsion from gripping her. It’s too familiar too soon, seeing him leering down, towering a foot over her, with nowhere to go. He moves his hand one centimeter towards her before she snaps, twisting his wrist – or trying to, at least. It’s iron under her fingers, and that, too, is familiar.

He has the audacity to look surprised. “Whoa, I was just ...”

“Leaving.” Ruby’s eyes are the color of the tundra north of Atlas.

The boy turns to her. “Oh great, what are _you_ doing here?”

“Walk away,” Ruby says.

She’s decidedly unimpressive, standing several inches shorter than Blake. She’s wearing a red cloak that Blake’s seen lying around the house a couple times, the tail fluttering like her hair in the sudden breeze. But the boy turns and makes to walk away anyway.

“Fuck off, Rose,” he spits, turning a hair back towards Blake. “Hey, if you ever want -”

That’s as far as he gets before Ruby grabs his shoulder between her thumb and forefinger, and pulls him down to her height, nearly twisting him off his feet. His arm’s frozen at a weird angle, elbow twisted and rigid, hand trembling in the air.

“Ow!” he yelps. “I’m sorry! I didn’t know she was your fr-”

“Why?” Ruby asks, calm, eyebrows drawn in. “Did I stutter?”

“I won’t do it again!”

Ruby drops him. He almost falls to the pavement, catching himself at the last second, and hurries back over the grassy field towards the campus buildings. He looks back at Ruby several times.

“Blake?”

Blake startles, suddenly aware of having been watching Cardin leave. She snaps her gaze to Ruby, who’s abruptly looking much more Ruby-like in the still air, soft silver eyes peering up at her.

“What?”

“Are you okay?” Ruby asks, frowning a little.

“I’m fine,” Blake says, automatic. “I had that handled.”

“Okay,” Ruby says. “Because you kind of, uh, spaced out there for a second? I don’t know. Anyway, I think Yang’s done classes now too. She likes having someone to walk back with. I’ll text her?”

It’s not really a question, but Blake knows she can say no, and maybe that’s why she doesn’t. She can still feel her heartbeat through her chest, and takes a few deep breaths to try to calm it down. Ruby’s humming something as she writes her text.

“Me and Yang are working tonight,” she says. “Might be back late. Are you a light sleeper?”

“Pretty light, why?”

Ruby shrugs. “Sorry. We’ll try not to wake you up when we get in. Hey, can you hear out of your cat ears?”

It’s just Ruby. “Uh, yes?”

“That’s so cool!” Ruby squeals, eyes wide. “Well, not for us, because there’s absolutely no way we are going to be quiet enough when we get home.”

“It’s okay. I’ll live.”

“Still.” Ruby considers for a second. “Don’t tell Yang that you have super-hearing though. She’ll be so jealous.”

“Ruby,” Blake says wearily. “There is very little about my life to be jealous of.”

“It’s got me in it, hasn’t it?” 

She’s so cute, smiling up at Blake, clearly proud of her unexpectedly self-assured comment. It’s like a lightswitch – there’s no trace of the stone-faced girl pinning a guy twice her size with two fingers and sending him running with a word. Blake can only shake her head.

“You really are Yang’s sister.”

“Duh,” Yang’s voice comes from behind her. “Have you seen her? Have you seen me?”

It’s almost weird that she isn’t startled. It’s not often that people get that close to her without her hearing them, especially people with Yang’s (total absence of) stealth. Now that she’s aware of it, she can clearly hear every blade of grass crunching under Yang’s heavy shoes. Blake’s skills and training from the White Fang must already be wearing off.

That’s not it, part of her says, unbidden, unwanted. That’s not why you didn’t hear her. Still, she knew Yang was there. It’s like she’s sensitive to her presence. Like the air is a couple degrees warmer just being near her.

“No resemblance,” Ruby chirps, chin held high and proud.

Yang shrugs helplessly and looks at Blake. “Thanks for waiting with the hobbit.”

“Rude!” Ruby exclaims, gesturing with a finger in the air. “Blake is not that short!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Yang waves her gloved hand dismissively. “We’re leaving. Get to class or I’ll get Nora to inspect that ERM you’re making for those wolfram blades again.”

Ruby narrows her eyes. “You would not dare.”

Yang matches her, deadly serious. “What’s the wattage on your forge again?”

Ruby flees.

“So how was your day?” Yang smiles sweetly at Blake.

“Being around you two is like being hit by a tornado, only there’s no instruction manual, and I can only understand every third word,” Blake says.

“Pretty sure tornadoes don’t come with instruction manuals,” Yang says thoughtfully. She starts walking, and Blake falls into step next to her. “I think I’d know if they did.”

“Why? Ever been caught in one?”

Yang snorts. She’s possibly the only person in existence who can still look good while doing that, in Blake’s opinion.

“That’s actually a funny question,” Yang says. “Depends on your definition of ‘caught’.”

“What? Why can you make that question not have yes or no answer?”

“Well, one time I was working in Mistral,” Yang says. “The place I was at was attacked, so that wasn’t good. But then they got hit by a tornado, so I didn’t have to do much about it. Does that count as me being caught in it? I think I was technically inside the windfield at the time...”

“What the fuck, Yang.”

“There was the time we were in Vacuo and there were a bunch of dust devils. Pyrrha tells this story terribly, you know. I only jumped through because Nora _double_ dared me to.”

“Yang.”

“Also, Nora did it first. I think that might have been the first time she got struck by lightning, as well.”

“ _Yang_.”

“Yes?” Yang says innocently.

“What the hell do you actually do for work?”

“I told you,” Yang shrugs. “Security. We travel sometimes because, well, not to brag, but we’re very good at what we do.”

“You make no sense.”

“Your face makes no sense.” Yang makes a face, sticking out her tongue. And she _still_ looks pretty.

It’s a crisp fall day, unusually cold for this time of year – Blake is firmly wrapped in her coat. But Yang has a jacket slung over one arm, leaving her in just a thin long-sleeved tee that reaches down to the glove over her right hand. The glove’s a thin, dusky brown leather, well-worn and snug. Blake goes to ask about it, but she makes the mistake of looking up at Yang’s eyes first.

Maybe there is yet some sense to be had, in those beautiful lilac eyes, pale in the clear sunlight. She’s framed by golden hair tumbling in the gentle breeze, pink lips pursing slightly, curious. Blake looks away, distracted.

But Yang’s still looking at her curiously, so she says: “You’re the best landlord I’ve ever had.” 

It’s funny because it’s true.

“Second best!” Yang challenges. “Ruby’s your landlord too, and don’t you forget it!”

Blake rolls her eyes. “Second best.”

“Aw, you do like us!” Yang grins, gleeful, and pulls Blake in with one arm.

Blake stumbles with the unexpected motion, but there’s no give, no play, no sense at all that Yang’s had nearly Blake’s full weight suddenly thrown on her. She’s just holding her and that’s it, standing in her little personal ray of sunlight that makes Blake feel abruptly warmer through three layers. Blake easily finds her footing and keeps walking, but Yang’s arm is still around her – hand sitting on Blake’s waist, sending a thrill through her spine. Her arm, slanted across Blake’s back, is so, so strong. It’s intoxicating. It’s addictive.

It’s dangerous.

Blake pushes her away with a casual huff, but her heart is racing for the second time that day, and she doesn’t ask any more questions as they walk home.

Yang probably notices, but she doesn’t comment on it, and doesn’t say much herself until she busts through the door of 447 Juniper street with her usual presence.

“Banana boy! Get yo feet off my sofa,” she declares without looking.

“ _Your_ sofa?” a voice calls back. “Implying you own it?”

“Motherfucker, I have a mortgage.” Yang finishes stripping off her boots, tosses them uncaringly against the wall of the little entrance hallway, and strides in.

Blake unconsciously straightens them out against the wall, and follows her into the living room. The smell of roses disappears after staying in the house for a little while, but it’s – not in your face, but unexpectedly present, and pleasant every time she walks in. But there’s something _wrong_. Like an itch on her neck. A discomfort she can neither place nor identify.

There’s a boy lounging on the couch, blonde, blue-eyed, and with a long monkey tail. He’s watching something on the big TV, a fistful of potato chips halfway to his mouth when Yang grabs his ankles and flips them off of it, spinning him in place.

“Wait, you actually bought the house?” the faunus says, genuine surprise on his face. “I thought that was a meme.”

Yang plonks down next to him, and casually slings an arm around his neck. “Me and Ruby bought it like a year ago, dude. Please try to keep up. Also, Weiss isn’t going to be here for another hour at least,” she explains.

“Fuck off,” he says around a mouthful of potato chip, but leans into her anyway.

Yang seems to have that effect on people.

“Sun, this is Blake. Blake, this is Sun Weed-kong, and that’s all you need to know. I apologize in advance for anything and everything he says.”

Sun snorts. “There’s someone here for you, Yang.”

Blake’s suddenly aware of a light set of footsteps leading out of Yang’s room. Yang abruptly jumps up, and the expression on her face...

It’s hope, and it’s happiness, but it’s also discomfort, and a thousand other things Blake can’t make heads nor tails of.

“No...” Yang says like she can’t believe it, and another faunus walks into the living room.

She’s, if possible, an even brighter person than Yang. But where Yang’s brilliance is soft, despite dazzling, this girl is just blinding. Her hair is pink, with neon-blue streaks through it, and blown up into two poofy pigtails. Her clothes are loud, the attitude in her stance is loud... The source of Blake’s discomfort is immediately apparent on seeing the girl’s pink cat tail.

Yang runs over, and glomps her in a hug, picking her up and spinning around. “I missed you so much!”

“Who’s that?” is the first thing Blake hears this girl say.

“Introductions – round 2!” Yang crows. “Neon, this is Blake, my new housemate. Blake, meet Neon, my girlfriend.”

“Hello,” Blake says cordially.

Neon just squints at her, and says: “Come on, Yang.” She grabs her hand and pulls her towards the bedrooms.

The hell? Blake looks to Sun for affirmation.

“Yep,” Sun sighs, clicking the TV off. “That’s our cue to get out of here. Come on, we’ll feed you at the Chateau, and you can meet the rest of the squad.”

“Okay.” Blake looks nervously at the hallway. “Sounds good.”

It actually doesn’t – at all – but it does sound better than staying here. She plucks her bag back off the floor and flees with Sun. He catches the look on her face when she looks back at the house, though.

“Yeah, it’s… we don’t know either.”

Sun’s cool though. Talking to him is easy. He just gets it. He tells Blake about coming to Beacon for the first time himself, about the school, and the people. It’s been weeks since Blake’s really talked to another faunus, and it’s so immediately different. Humans will never understand what it’s like to exist as a faunus in this world. She can’t talk to Yang, or Ruby, or anyone else she’s met about things like walking through the halls on campus, probably ever. But she can talk to Sun, though she’s known him for all of ten minutes.

It doesn’t help though, not really. Not when Sun talks about the same things, and what shops nearby to go to and which ones to avoid, and all the things Yang and Ruby and Weiss didn’t tell her because they couldn’t. And the voice, the one she tries to forget, whispers in her ear. Humans will never understand you. Humans will never care about you.

She can forget. She does forget, when the humans in Sun’s house greet her with open arms. Ren’s got a pot pie in the oven that’s delicious. Pyrrha is one of the sweetest people Blake’s ever met. Neptune is absent-minded and constantly running off to put another touch on the painting on the easel in his room, which he talks Blake’s ear off about all evening – at least when he remembers to. Jaune arrives halfway through dinner, looking stressed and harrassed. He’s accompanied by Nora, who is loud and terrifying and leaves after five minutes with Pyrrha.

But forgetting just means it’s buried, not gone, and it’s back when Blake lies awake in her bed at half past one. Her bed is a double, which means it’s big and comfortable, which means it’s too big, and too comfortable. There’s a chill inside her, and not one that the numerous sheets and blankets can fend off. 

Perhaps she was just too used to having someone warm to curl up against at night. It’s been a few weeks, but for most of that time, she was too preoccupied with making it to the next day for intrusive thoughts. But now, with nothing but the moonlight leaking through the curtains and the ticking of the clock in Ruby’s room keeping her company, and the beginnings of an actual life lying around her, her mind starts to wander. And it wanders where it always has – right back to him.

It makes her feel sick, the realization that some part of her misses him. It chills her to the bone and grips her insides with memories of bruises, of welted skin, of … soreness. Mercifully, the memories are vague of the actual events, but the revulsion wells up inside her. At him, at the world, at herself.

It’s useless, lying there, and she gets out of bed. She has tea in the cupboard and _Man with Two Souls_ to get lost in. Another world, where she’s not a faunus, she doesn’t have to worry about her future, and Adam Taurus does not exist.

A lamp is on in the living room, the brightness assaulting Blake’s sensitive eyes. She feels her way over to it, eyes open with the smallest squint until she can turn it off, and the only light in the room is the soft blinking of the power button of Weiss’ laptop. It sits on Weiss’ lap, the girl asleep sitting upright on the couch.

The déjà vu from the first day she came to the house is dizzying as Blake puts on the kettle. But it’s calming too, with the soft scent of jasmine, the warmth of her mug, the ticking of the clock, her book under the moonlight. The table is rich wood, solid and heavy. It’s well-worn, but still looks nothing like what belongs in a house owned by a couple of students. Blake runs her hand along the grain and thinks that Weiss is wrong. The house isn’t cold. Maybe Blake’s room is. And maybe she has to wear a sweater all the time while Yang and Ruby walk around in tank tops. But in every other way, it might just be the warmest place she’s ever lived.

The noise of the car pulling up outside is familiar too, intruding on the quiet, idyllic night. Ruby doesn’t fall onto her face this time, sneaking in with Yang, and Blake feels a sudden surge of affection for these two sisters failing so badly at being stealthy, but trying so hard nonetheless. She closes her eyes just in time to not get blinded anew when Yang flicks on the lights.

Weiss startles awake and barely catches the laptop as it falls out of her lap. She rounds on the sisters as they walk in.

“Do you know what time it is?” she hisses.

“Shh!” Ruby whispers with wide eyes. “You’ll wake up Blake!”

“Probably you won’t,” Blake says.

Ruby looks at her, startled. She’s immaculate other than a splotch of black goo on her shoulder, but her hair is in disarray, sticking every which way, and part of her eyebrow is singed. The smell of roses reaches Blake’s nose – not unpleasant, but almost overpowering even from across the room.

“We didn’t wake you up, did we?” Ruby whispers at Blake anxiously.

“It’s half past two!” Weiss whisper-shouts. “You were supposed to be back three and a half hours ago!”

Yang navigates past the two of them and drops into a chair across the table from Blake. “Hey,” she smiles, even as her eyes droop. “What are you doing up?”

And there’s the really damning thing for Weiss. How could anything be cold, near the ray of sunlight that seems to follow that golden girl around even in the middle of the night? And somehow, everything seems so obvious, because she’s beautiful, slouched in a chair with her hair matted to her forehead with sweat, eyes dimmed and lidded with fatigue, cheeks blotchy and flushed, dirt caked to her shirt and forearms, hands wrapped around Blake’s second cup of tea. She’s got a bandage running down her cheek, wrapping around the side of her neck before disappearing into her fitted yellow t-shirt.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

Yang hums acknowledgment. It’s a low note, calming over the sound of Weiss storming off to bed. Her eyes drift shut as she breathes in.

“Mm, jasmine,” Yang says. “It was mom’s favorite.”

She slides Blake’s tea back, and Blake’s fingers tingle where they brush Yang’s knuckles. The past tense stands out, but she’s not going to ask. Not tonight.

“Good thing tomorrow is Saturday,” Yang mumbles blearily, resting her face on a gloved hand. “That was bad.”

“What happened?” Blake asks, because she can’t help it.

“Six people doing what was supposed to be eight people doing a ... much more than eight person job,” Yang shrugs with a half smile on her face. “I can’t promise pancakes in the morning this time, unless you can wait until noon.”

“I rent a room from you,” Blake says, wry. “I’m not expecting that you make me breakfast every weekend.”

“Maybe you should,” Yang says with a wink. “Don’t stay up too long.”

And Yang stoops down to pick Ruby up from where she’s passed out on the floor, and carries her to the bathroom. She takes a piece of Blake with her, but maybe it’s one Blake can afford to give up – she’ll get it back in the morning anyway.

And it _is_ funny, because Blake does just rent a room here, but these are still probably her closest friends in the world right now. She drains her tea, and switches off the light before going back to her room and sliding under the covers.

And somehow Blake’s room isn’t so cold as it was before. She doesn’t sleep for a while anyway, listening to the sound of running water and Ruby’s feeble protests. She hears a thump from Ruby’s room, like Yang dropped her onto her bed, and later she hears three sets of soft breathing.

Her mind wanders, and this time, it wanders to food being made for her. It wanders to a human standing up for her on campus. It wanders to lilac eyes in the moonlight.

Yang has pancakes ready by the time Blake wakes up at half past eleven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, yall want more descriptions of what Yang's aura feels like to someone who doesn't know what aura is, or nah


	4. snow angels in the stars

The first time Weiss gets drunk, it’s New Year’s Eve. It’s not like it’s Yang’s fault! She didn’t plan on this happening. Really! She just wanted to get Weiss out of the house. Seriously, this level of brooding and social withdrawal is not healthy, no matter how much of an introvert Weiss claims to be.

It’s not like Yang doesn’t understand. She, too, had a place to call a home to go back to, once upon a time – a place that now, she can’t think of without a twinge lancing down her right arm. So she doesn’t think of it much anymore. But that doesn’t mean that she doesn’t remember how much it hurt being alone for the first time on her birthday. And for Christmas. And for New Years’.

Now, Weiss isn’t a cyborg, so she probably doesn’t have a body part giving her phantom pains. But that doesn’t mean that hurt doesn’t exist, and it’s more than plain as exams finish in December. Not that Her Iciness will admit it, of course. She’s too proud, too poised, too ... pristine for such things as loneliness. But she’s got the second worst poker face in the world probably, and when the Rube (proud wielder of first place) is out, Weiss has actually started deliberately existing in the same room as Yang sometimes. That’s how serious it is.

Weiss likes her privacy, and Yang does respect that. But if she makes a little extra note of when Weiss is home early, or dodging social engagements she previously wanted to attend... well, it’s hard not to notice a pattern. It’s not unusual for her to go entire weekends without stepping foot outside the house, but it is unusual for her not to let Ruby drag her places. She says she’s just introverted, she says she needs to study, and she says a lot of other things besides.

The thing is, Yang knows how it goes. She remembers making up excuses too. She remembers throwing herself into training, and pushing away the few friends she had at the time. She remembers a dinner on Christmas Eve, alone, and breaking five punching bags in the Beacon field gym after. And she remembers Pyrrha, sweet, lovely Pyrrha, gently pulling her away, taking her back to the Chateau, cleaning the sand and the last running remnants of makeup off her face, and cuddling with her on the sofa while they watched old Disney movies with Nora and Ren until two in the morning.

This year, Tai had guilt tripped her and guilt tripped her until Yang had no choice but to go back to Patch for Christmas with Ruby. Which especially sucked because then she had to make a thousand promises to Neon to pacify her. Pyrrha and Jaune visited their homes in Mistral, Neptune went to his parents’ in Vacuo, Ren didn’t step beyond the balcony of the Chateau for three days, and Weiss is not exactly the closest of friends with Sun and Nora. So that means that Weiss was very literally alone on Christmas Eve, and Christmas Day, and a day on either side of those. And when Yang got back, Weiss had expressed herself in the only way she knows how, and found a thousand things to snap at her for. Yang just hugged the girl, and Weiss had tensed like a plucked guitar string and buried her face in Yang’s shoulder.

So, Weiss is not allowed to be alone on New Year’s and that’s that. Stop number one is Twisted Taijitu, Junior Xiong’s seedy little tavern. Weiss had disagreed, and claimed that stop number one was her room. However, Yang won that argument, in seemingly the only way she can ever win any arguments with Weiss.

“Unhand me at once, you lout!”

Yang had shrugged and slid Weiss off her shoulder. “Well, I can carry you around all evening, or you could take the ten minutes before Pyrrha gets here to get done up, and come quietly.”

Weiss gave her a look of abject hatred before promptly disappearing. And reappearing, looking about seven steps overdressed and a little off-kilter, when Pyrrha showed up at the door twenty minutes later. Meh. Yang took it as the win it was.

She shouldn’t have, though, because now Weiss is drunk and it’s Yang’s problem. As usual, it’s Nora’s fault. It was fine when Weiss was fully sober and giving Pyrrha an awkward curtsy and going five shades of red when Pyrrha greeted her with a hug. That’s perfectly understandable. Everyone’s a little gay for Pyrrha. But Weiss has never really drank before, and now her cheeks are red from the fruity cocktails Nora keeps feeding her, and her balance is frankly not the greatest at the best of times, and she’s attached herself to Pyrrha’s hip, and she’s doing a lot more giggling than one would normally expect of her.

It would be hilarious if it wasn’t such a disaster. Pyrrha’s trying to get Jaune’s attention, and totally failing because of Jaune’s incredibly subtle (read: not subtle) thing for Weiss, and of course Pyrrha’s too much of a sweetheart to ditch Weiss even though she’s well past 5 o’clock herself and she knows Yang’s there and sober. And let’s not forget that teeny tiny little detail called ‘Weiss is _currently dating Neptune_ '. And now somehow this is all Yang’s problem.

Thank the Brothers for Sun. Sun, who sees Weiss having convinced Pyrrha to dance with her, and who Yang just has to give a single look for him to understand that this is not how Weiss wants to be outed no matter how much Neptune is his bro. Sun, who gathers Ren and Nora and pulls his shitty Toyota around. Sun, who drives them down to the Beacon pier after Yang’s wrangled Weiss away from Pyrrha. Sun, who doesn’t say a single word about having also seen Neon dancing with someone on the other side of the bar after she told Yang she was going home for the holidays.

He’d even gotten Nora and Ren separated long enough to get Nora into the front seat, so it’s Yang’s shoulder Weiss is lying on and talking about how actually maybe bars aren’t so bad after all. _That’s_ how you really know Weiss is trashed – saying that Yang is right about something.

Things are hotting up at the pier. There’s probably a thousand people milling about. There’s food trucks set up everywhere, including a bunch of places Yang is reasonably sure aren’t licensed to be selling the drinks they are. Weiss catches a glimpse of bright red liquid being served and immediately tries to head in that direction, so Yang makes good on her earlier promise and slings Weiss over her shoulder. Weiss gives a huff of halfhearted disappointment before wrapping her arms around her and pressing close.

Hey, it’s cold enough to see your breath, and Yang’s aura is always toasty. She’s happy to share.

Nora recommends hotdogs. Sun recommends pizza. Nora challenges Sun to a hotdog eating contest. They all line up for hotdogs. Weiss tries to pay for everyone’s food, but nobody really listens to her.

Fox and Velvet are sitting, alone, at the edge of the dock with their legs hanging over the frigid water. Yang’s not one to intrude on that, but really, there’s enough space for maybe a tenth of the people swarming the pier, and there’s a good berth around the couple. They do make quite the pair – the faunus with rabbit ears standing a foot tall over her head, and Fox’s milky eyes, burning red hair, and scars crisscrossing everywhere his dark skin shows. Normally it bugs the snot out of Yang when she sees people acting like they generally do towards Fox and Velvet. But today, if people want to suck, it’s their own loss. She plops down next to Fox, slipping Weiss carefully off her shoulder and onto the dock next to her.

“Yang!” Velvet exclaims in that southern Mistrali accent of hers, reaching across Fox to wrap her in a hug.

“Sorry to butt in, my dudes,” Yang says, slinging her arms around both of them.

“... But there ain’t no other place to be,” Nora finishes, dropping down next to Velvet and balancing the platter of hotdogs on her lap. “Feel free to grab a couple.”

Velvet’s eyes go very wide in concern at the improbably balanced mound of hotdogs. Nora’s got quite the setup going, with those little cardboard boxes normally you put hotdogs into filled with onions and pickles and jalapenos and Brothers know what else. Velvet cautiously scoops some guac onto one and carefully takes a bite before passing it to Fox.

“One!” Sun mumbles around the remnants of his ‘dog before grabbing another off Nora’s lap, ketchuping it up, and taking a huge bite.

“Men,” Nora sighs in utter despair, then piles mac ‘n cheese high and shoves half into her mouth at once.

“So anyway, they’re your problem now,” Yang says to Velvet.

“We’re not a problem, we’re a solution,” Ren explains, lying down on the dock behind them with a ‘dog of his own. “Dissolved in the air.”

“Okay,” Velvet says. “We can keep him, at least.”

“This is Weiss,” Yang says. “Weiss, meet Velvet and Fox.”

Weiss tries to sit up straighter, she really does. It’s like some vestiges of her whole snow queen thing is doing its best to poke through that haze. “Nice to meet you,” she says primly, except the part where all her words are slurring together.

“Ah, the Schnee,” Fox says. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Schnee is a relative term, these days,” Yang explains.

“Really, everything is a relative term,” Ren ponders, but okay, nobody’s really listening to him at this point either.

Maybe that’s wrong though, because Weiss really doesn’t say anything for a while, and Yang’s getting frankly worried. It’s after the hotdog platter rests on the dock, empty save some crumbs and little pieces of the flaky foodtruck buns, and they’re all sitting in a line shooting the shit when Weiss tugs on Yang’s sleeve because she wants to talk.

“Sorry for being such a handful,” she says. It’s quiet, barely audible over the noise from the crowd even just inches from her ear. Her words are a little more clear than earlier.

Yang only half-resists the urge to roll her eyes. “Weiss, tonight, you’re allowed to be. That’s why I brought you out here. It’s New Year’s. You’re okay, seriously.”

Weiss closes her eyes, leaning a temple against Yang’s shoulder. “I wasn’t talking about just tonight.”

And there it is, really.

“Are you sure you want to say this when you’re off your rocker?”

“No,” Weiss says plaintively. “But when else am I supposed to have the courage to talk?”

Yang looks out over the harbor. “Weiss, you are a lot of things. ‘Coward’ is not among them.”

“A lot of things? Like what?”

“Very irritating, for one,” Yang says. She wraps her arm around the girl to dull the bite, because it’s really not intended.

Weiss just stares moodily at the buildings marking Vale’s industrial district in the distance.

Yang elaborates. “Weiss, you’re like the annoying little sister I never – well, I actually have an annoying little sister already. You’re like the _second_ annoying little sister I never had.”

“I’m older than you, you little shit,” Weiss says, but there’s barely a trace of prickliness in it. She doesn’t pull away from Yang’s side, not even a little.

“Aww,” Yang says, trying to pinch her cheek with her left hand. “Weiss is using a grown-up word!”

“Fuck off, Yang,” Weiss says, batting at her hand halfheartedly.

Yang just wraps her left arm around her too, because let’s face it, she is all bark and no bite when it comes to Weiss Schnee.

Weiss is looking up at the sky now. Vale’s pretty lousy for stargazing, to be honest. It’s a clear night, but the sky is still dimmer than it would be even in the other three capitals – Vale’s a little bigger, and a little more industrial than the rest. Yang would know. She’s been to all of them.

“You didn’t have to take me in,” Weiss says. “I know you did that as a favour to Winter. But you didn’t want to take my money either.”

Weiss has had all the money in the world. She’s lived on the floating island that is Atlas, high above the rest of this mortal plane. She’s equally been on vacations and accompanied business trips to all corners of Remnant. But she’s still never truly seen the stars. Not like Yang has, on a clear, moonless night in the unforgiving, barren tundra of northern Solitas. Weiss stares at the sky over the Vale harbor like it’s the first time she’s seen it.

“I don’t know where I’d be if it wasn’t for you,” Weiss says. “Probably at whatever hidey-hole my sister managed to scrounge up for the week. Not here, with ... a life. An education for something I actually want to do. People who I might even call friends.” She shoots a quick look at Nora, who is squirting Tabasco straight into her mouth from a squeeze bottle. “Well, you know what I mean.”

“You gotta take the lumps sometimes, when it comes to people,” Yang advises. “Some people are worth it.”

“Oh, are we doing that now?” Weiss says, affixing Yang with a glare. “The thing where you pretend like you’re not talking about me but we both know you are?”

“If that’s what it takes,” Yang shrugs.

“Why?” Weiss says. “Why do you do it?”

“Take you in? You just told me why,” Yang says simply. “What you just said. There it is.”

Weiss raises her eyebrows. “Please tell me this isn’t just pity.”

Yang huffs a laugh. “This might be inconceivable to that icy brain of yours, but I might be able to empathize just a little bit. I know what it’s like to lose family, too. And if it weren’t for some people around me who were willing to give me just a little bit of a hand, I might not be here today at all.”

Weiss startles, looking up at her with suddenly very wide eyes. “Yang...”

“We’re not going there, Weiss,” Yang says. “Not tonight. But don’t think I don’t notice when you stay up until we come home after work. Or when you make me coffee in the morning. Or when you memorize Ruby’s schedule to make sure she’s never late for class. Or when you clean half the house when it’s not your weekend.”

“You two never do the sinks properly,” Weiss mumbles.

She’s Weiss, she can’t help it. She watches the water ripple barely a foot beneath those silly open-faced heels she’s wearing over translucent stockings. Yang’s going to have to check her feet for frostbite later. Good grief.

“Weiss, look. You’re good people. You’re like, a genius. You might be the hardest-working person I’ve ever met. And you’re going to do something amazing for this world someday.”

Weiss doesn’t say anything to that. She looks at the stars and Yang holds her with one arm, and she pretends not to notice the faint tear-tracks that have been slowly trailing down Weiss’ cheeks for several minutes.

And the countdown begins. It’s a roar from the crowd behind them that can be felt from the crown of the head to the tips of the toes. _”Nine, eight, seven,”_ the crowd goes, and it’s a little discombobulated and a little disjunct, but who cares honestly, and Yang’s shouting right alongside them. Weiss is not – she’s staring out over the bay, drinking in every part of the little seascape like she can’t decide if it’s for the first or last time – but she’s giving that little half-glare she has when she’s pretending something’s annoying her but she’s secretly a little in the moment. And it’s _”THREE, TWO, ONE...”_ and the fireworks go, and Nora and Ren are kissing, and Velvet and Fox are kissing, and Sun is dancing in a circle, and Yang hasn’t let go of Weiss for the past half hour so she doesn’t really see the point in doing that now, and Weiss is smiling. A real one.

“I’ve never had a New Year’s like this before,” Weiss shouts, barely audible over the crowd.

Her phone buzzes in her pocket, and it’s Ruby, who writes: “HAPPY NWW YEQR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”; and it’s Pyrrha, who attaches a selfie of her and Jaune smiling like the dorks they are; and it’s Neptune, who’s wearing a fucking suit. Yang plucks Weiss off the ground and lifts her onto her shoulders to watch the fireworks because why not. Weiss squeals and tips slightly, so Yang wraps her in her aura to hold her up. She manages to send back a few squad selfies – none of them quite managing to capture Nora.

They go hard in Vale – it’s nearly 12:30 AM by the time the fireworks are ending. The party’s just getting started as far as the crowd is concerned, but they’re piling into Sun’s car, Sun tossing her the keys without looking. Yang drops them off at the Chateau and drives Weiss and herself to Juniper street. Weiss probably actually doesn’t need to be carried in, fed water, and deposited on her bed. But, better to be safe than sorry, you know?

Yang looks at her phone and sees a missed call from Patch. She knows Weiss doesn’t have parents any more than she does. She knows what kind of sister Winter is. And she knows that Weiss is never going to have to feel alone again.

It’s past 11 am when Weiss trudges into the kitchen, hair a mess, still in her PJs and rubbing her blotchy face. No doubt lured by the smell of coffee.

“You look awful,” Yang greets her, tossing some frozen raspberries in the next batch because she feels like it.

Weiss turns on her heel and walks straight back out of the kitchen.

“Oh come on,” Yang whines. “You’re still pretty, Weiiiiiiiss...”

“You’re nearly as bad as Ruby,” Weiss says, but, hey, she comes back into the kitchen.

The girl grabs some creamer from the fridge and dumps a generous amount into her cup before filling it with coffee. She used to drink it black. Something about creamer being for people who don’t like the taste of coffee. She’s loosened up a little since then. Like usual, it seems to have something to do with Ruby. Yang considers it a pretty marginal improvement overall however because the girl pours the creamer in _before_ the coffee. She explained it once – something to do with it mixing better when you pour the big volume into the small one – but most of it went over Yang’s head, and Weiss mixes it with a spoon anyway, so Yang honestly just has to accept it. If Weiss wants to put her milk in before the cereal... well, you can’t save everyone.

Not that that’s ever stopped Yang from trying. She tosses a plate across the room onto the table in front of Weiss – catching it with her aura the instant before it hits the table and shatters – just because it makes Weiss make a noise like a strangled cat.

“How are you feeling anyway, princess?”

“Well clearly I am hallucinating,” Weiss says, “since that’s not a pancake.”

Yang grins into a bite of her own as the beautiful raspberry waffle cooks in the iron. Can’t make pancakes all the time! Gotta keep your housemates on their toes.

“Any headache or anything?”

“Like usual, my only headache is you,” Weiss says, pouring an austere dab of maple syrup onto her plate.

Yang gasps. “Did you just admit that Ruby isn’t a headache?”

Weiss narrows her eyes, contemplative. “What does me doing your cleaning for the week say about having said that?”

Yang shrugs. Like always with Weiss, it’s not about Yang’s silence. One day, Weiss will accept that she doesn’t have to try to pay these things back. Today’s not that day. But Yang will let her have this one.

Plus, Yang makes a fucking good Mistrali waffle. She eats the second one straight out of the griddle, because she can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Let's write a nice fluffy bee fic  
> Also me: *writes an entire chapter of Freezerburn bait*  
> Well these things happen.  
> Also - Sun won the hotdog eating contest, but Nora claims he cheated by putting less toppings.


End file.
